Date: Fri, 4 Feb 2005 09:38:22 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack Santoro
Subject: An Evening with Charlie, Adult Friends, 1/1
An Evening With Charlie
By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
I'd met Charlie over 20 years ago through Phil, a
mutual friend, and it didn't take long for us to
decide we had similar tastes. We were exactly the same
age, 39, and fairly experienced in sexual matters.
That was why we'd met as part of a loose network of
guys who shared the same outlook and preferences,
specifically, that mutual jacking and other forms of
play were preferable to many other types of sexual
expression. In those relatively carefree days, I had
not yet heard the expression "safe sex," and merely
did a lot of solo and mutual jacking just because I
enjoyed it more than almost anything else. That didn't
mean that I was totally constricted in my sexual
tastes; I occasionally tried other things for variety.
Charlie welcomed me when I rang his bell, and ushered
me into the living room, where he offered me a beer.
Like me, he was an avid beer drinker, and soon we were
enjoying the brew and discussing our mutual friends.
He sat next to me on the couch, and I felt the warmth
of his thigh through the fabric of our clothing. It
wasn't long before we had conspicuous bulges running
down our pants legs. "Looks like you're as ready as I
am," he remarked. I nodded, and he led me into the
bedroom, where we doffed our clothes.
I saw that Charlie and I had similar builds, medium,
and we were both about six feet. He wore his hair in a
crew cut, which contrasted with my brushed back look.
Charlie's cock was circumcised, with a pink
bell-shaped head in front of a thick, jagged scar
ring. Bell-shaped cock-heads are less common than
mushrooms and helmets, and are very attractive because
of their symmetry. The bell shape begins with a big
rounded dome at the front, just like my helmet.
Instead of tapering out, the bell-shaped head
continues straight back to a high flaring ridge that
comes almost straight down to meet in a weld line
underneath. The helmet's ridge, by comparison, sweeps
forward at about 45 degrees under the cock. Like mine,
Charlie's cock-head had a large, teardrop shaped cum
hole, and it looked very sexy.
Charlie was staring hungrily at my thick uncut cock,
with its fleshy hood tapering over the bulging glans
and forming a long nipple in front of it. I reacted to
his stare, my cock-head swelling under its thick
covering.
"Phil told me they didn't do you," he said, obviously
referring to my uncut state. "I always envied guys who
had their hoods. Mine was cut off when I had my
tonsils out at five. The doctor wanted to collect a
few extra dollars, I guess." He sighed and continued:
"Sometimes, I put on a condom, close my eyes, and
pretend it's a foreskin, but I always know it isn't."
Now we were only a couple of feet apart, and Charlie
reached for my prick, grasping it by the nipple. He
rolled it back and forth between his fingers, and the
tickling feeling this produced in my glans gave me a
full erection. His cock was swelling too, even though
I hadn't yet touched it.
We lay on the bed in a "69" position, which gave us a
full view of each other's equipment. We each had
slightly less than seven inches, which would change in
later years as fat pads built up over our pubic bones.
He grasped my prick in his fist, steadying it while he
inspected it closely. I felt Charlie's tongue probe
into my foreskin nipple, then insinuate itself farther
to touch the cum-hole. The warm contact of his tongue
against my swollen glans made me shudder, and I felt a
drop of fluid begin to crawl up my urethra. He took
his mouth away momentarily to say;
"Yours has a real nice, clean man smell. I just love
that smell."
"You like the odor, right?"
"Oh yes I do. I even like a cock that hasn't been
washed for a couple of days. There aren't many of them
around nowadays. Most natural guys are so scared to be
thought unclean that they wash religiously every day,
some even several times a day."
"I know a guy like that," I said. "He was so obsessed
about his foreskin odor that he soaped it several
times a day. The soap only irritated his prick and he
eventually got himself circumcised." Charlie replied:
"I'm sorry to hear that. That poor guy was
brainwashed. I wish I'd known him before he got
himself chopped. I think I would have convinced him
that smegma is attractive."
"Did you ever know a guy who didn't wash much?"
"Oh, about ten years ago. I met this guy who was
really charming, and when we stripped down I saw he
had a long thick foreskin, a lot like yours, covering
a big fat mushroom that made a hot looking bulge in
his skin. I smelled him from several feet away, and I
wanted his dick pronto! I skinned him back, and saw
that he had a nice film of white stuff on his
mushroom. He was embarrassed, and told me that he'd go
into the bathroom to clean himself, but I held on to
his dick and told him I'd do it for him."
"Did you wash him, you mean?"
"No, not washing in the conventional sense. I cleaned
his dick, all right, but I did it with my tongue, a
tongue bath. I got him on the bed and by this time he
was hard. His foreskin was like yours- it covered that
fat mushroom even when it was fully hard. I slowly
skinned him back and licked the cheese from his
cock-head. I worked my tongue all around it, hitting
the groove behind his fat rim, and then I held his
cock up so that I could get at the underside, where
his gee-string attached in the vee-groove. There were
a lot of wrinkles there, but I worked my tongue into
every one, and licked him clean."
"He must have liked that," I said.
"He really did! Then I pulled back hard on the skin to
get the wrinkles out of his foreskin. I stretched it
back real tight, and that made his mushroom dip
because it pulled down on his thick gee-string. When I
had his foreskin tightly stretched it was one smooth
tube of skin behind his cock-head, and I tongued all
around it. I licked every last trace of smeg from that
smooth surface, and then I let his skin go forward
again. After that, we did "69" until we came."
"Well, let's get into it now. I'd like to make your
prick explode."
"I want to make your cock shoot too." I moved forward
to taste Charlie's prick.
Charlie's prick smelled and tasted bland, typical of
the circumcised version. A slight male odor wafted up
from his balls, and I inhaled this, enjoying the aroma
as I licked the broad upper surface of his bell-shaped
head with my tongue. I took the head completely in my
mouth, sucking hard to give him a good sensation. I
held the base of his prick in my hand and squeezed
hard, slowing the return flow of blood and making the
head swell even more. I removed my mouth to look at
it.
I saw that a drop of clear fluid had filled Charlie's
teardrop. I delicately picked up his cock by its big,
bulging glans and licked off the drop, enjoying its
thick viscosity and salty taste, knowing that by now
he was tasting mine. Then I ran my tongue around his
flaring rim, following it down to the seam under the
head.
I felt Charlie tug gently on my hood, retracting it
step by step, a fraction of an inch at a time, which
felt very good. I was glad that Charlie knew that
skinning it back stage by stage was the sexiest way to
do it, because of the slow and repeated stretches on
the sensitive serve endings. The long hood slid back
over the well-lubricated cock-head, and when Charlie
gave a final tug, it rode over my high ridge and
snapped down into the deep groove behind the head.
"Hey, you've got a teardrop at the end just like me,"
he exclaimed. "You've got a really nice cock-head, and
I'll enjoy sucking it." His warm lips wrapped around
my turgid glans, and I felt his tongue probe at my
teardrop, then drop underneath to explore the
triangular groove under the head. The tip of his
tongue worked its way up behind my ridge, caressing
the groove and the roll of foreskin that lay within
it. He spoke again:
"I'd sure love to feel that long foreskin of yours
wrapped around my cock-head," he said, "but your tip's
so big mine wouldn't fit underneath."
"Well, one way we could do it is that you make me cum
first, then my prick'll go soft and you'll have room
to work the head in," I suggested. "I'm almost there,
anyway, with the tongue action you've been giving me."
Charlie responded by giving my prick a few quick
pumps, pulling my foreskin up over the head, then
stripping it back behind the groove.
He locked the fingers of his other hand at the base of
my shaft, and I felt my cock-tip swelling even more,
becoming warmer and more sensitive. The rhythmic
compression of the nerve endings in my rim gave me a
tingly feeling, and I knew I'd be cumming within
seconds. My cock-root throbbed, and I felt a surge of
pre-cum crawling up my tube, then Charlie wrapped his
warm lips around the head and sucked the pre-cum right
out of me.
With his lips on the front of my swollen glans, he
pumped my foreskin hard against the ridge, crushing
the nerve endings, and I felt myself going over the
edge. I was helpless in Charlie's hands as he brought
my prick to coming, and the first hot jet rushed up my
tube and into his mouth. I let go of his prick, unable
to think of anything except the overwhelmingly
beautiful sensations in my throbbing cock, and I cried
out helplessly as the orgasm paralyzed my mind.
My helmet felt hot, Charlie's mouth felt hot, and each
gush of cum-juice was hot enough to give me a burning
feeling as it rushed toward the tip. I felt Charlie
sucking hard on my tip, drawing each drop out, and my
cock-root convulsed again as I shot another gush.
After a few more spasms, it was over, and I felt my
body relax. My tip was extremely sensitive, and I
pulled away from Charlie's mouth. Charlie had
swallowed every drop.
As I returned to normal, my prick began deflating, and
Charlie grasped my foreskin and pulled its opening
wide. Satisfied that he could fit his large, shapely
head inside, he shifted position on the bed until our
cocks were literally tip to tip. He stretched the
opening of my hood again, and slowly slid the dome of
his bell inside it. There was now plenty of room, and
I felt his glans slide easily farther inside, well
lubricated by my cream. Now he clamped his fingers
around the end of my foreskin, locking it into the
groove behind his ridge.
I didn't have my own excitement to distract me, and I
concentrated on the sensations of another man's
cock-head inside my hood. Charlie's tip stretched my
foreskin, and it felt very warm against my glans. He
began thrusting slowly, gently, and I savored every
sensation, every subtle feeling, as I felt his swollen
bell-head sliding inside my foreskin. I clamped my
fingers around the base of his cock again to make him
swell even more, and heard him sigh.
I was looking right into his eyes as they closed, and
I knew he was on the brink. I could almost feel him
withdrawing deep inside himself as the sensations rose
in his cock-tip, and he began sliding down the sharp
slope towards the brink. Suddenly, I felt his glans
throb hard against mine, and a hot gush erupted from
the hole and spread all over my helmet, mixing with
the residue of my discharge. Another jet filled my
foreskin, and I felt it wash over my glans, seeping
back to my ridge. Another load erupted from Charlie's
tip, this time filling the groove behind my rim.
Charlie groaned in delight, and I felt his body
shudder against mine, as the orgasm transported him to
the pinnacle of sensation. I knew that this time, it
was as much psychological as physical, because he was
having his climax inside a warm, living foreskin, not
an inert and inanimate condom. Charlie gasped, his
chest heaved, and another gush erupted from his hot
bell-shaped tip onto mine. It was weaker than before,
and I felt his orgasm slow as his glans throbbed
against mine.
Now it was over, and his cock began to shrivel, and I
saw thick ropes of cream seep from under my hood,
running onto the bed because we'd forgotten to spread
a towel. However, Charlie got up, and I helped him
strip the bed and put on a new bottom sheet. After
another beer, we fell into a deep sleep.
The End